Famous Love(Daryl Dixon Love Fanfiction)

Haunting Past

I woke up the next morning feeling different. I suddenly felt sadness wash over me. I havent felt like this in acouple months. I slowly got out of bed and walked in my bathroom. I opened the mirror door to the cabniet and looked around. I found a bottle of pills, my prescription of Risperdone. Yes, I took medication, but only because I had Bipolar disorder. I tried very hard to control it all these months but today I knew, I have to start taking my medication again. I just wish I could escape my mental illness. Whenever someone tried to talk to me about my disorder, I just felt sick to my stomach. I never felt like a normal person growing up.

My parents always told me I wasnt sick. That there was nothing wrong with me. That mental illnesses dont exist. But they were just in denial. I knew I was different than most people. The mood swings, racing thoughts. All the times I've said something I didn't mean. It was all because of my illness. When I was 15, I had my very first boyfriend. His name was Marcus. We were together for 2 years and Marcus had purpose to me on my 16th birthday. We were engaged for a year before I found out he had cheated on me the whole time.

I became so attached to Marcus, I lost it. I went insane that night I walked in on him fucking some whore. That night...I remembered it like it was yesterday. Me and Marcus were fighting and I drove to his house. I walked in and saw clothes all over the floor. I was so naiive, not realizing the woman's clothing on the floor. I burst through his bedroom door and there he was. Laying naked next to another woman. He didnt even feel guilty for it. I remember smashing and breaking all of his things before I drove home, balling my eyes out.

When I got home I remember cutting my wrists and taking awhole bunch of sleeping pills. 32 of them, I remember. I wanted to die that night. I remember waking up the next morning disorented, in a hospital. They told me I was lucky to be alive. Lucky my best friend came to my house that night. They had pumped my stomach and stitched up my wrists. I still have scars. That day, I realized that I was put on this earth for some reason. For some reason, I was lucky. I was given a second chance at life.

I'll never forget that day. That day I also realized...Love is just a word. Love is nothing but pain and sorrow. I would never love again, I would never get too attached to another man. Being on my own was better for me in the long run. Even if I felt lonely...even if I desperately wanted to feel something. Even if I wanted to be held and told that everything is okay. Even if I wanted someone to love me and care for me. And even if I wake up alone every morning.....I wont allow myself to be hurt again.